Saturday

King

It was , and I planned on doing absolutely nothing, just as soon as I got these chickenshits out of my office. All I wanted was to drink my morning coffee in peace, but like most things, that would never happen.

Why, you ask?

Because the biggest pussies in Rosewood had their panties in a twist over something the kid hadn't done yet. And now the fuckers expected me to do something about him.

There was only one day left of summer vacation.

What the hell could the kid possibly do?

But, then again, this was Carnage I was talking about.

The kid earned his club name for a reason.

So it was anyone's guess what the little shit had planned.

"Today is the day. I feel it," Scribe whispered, looking at the door as if Cameron were watching him. "I called Athena last night. She laughed at me and said I was on my own. My own fucking sister deserted me."

Priest nodded. "Phoebe has been tight-lipped, too. Every time I bring up Cameron, she just snickers and walks away."

"Sarah called and said she ain't coming home until the dust settles." Gunner huffed.

"Shug left before sunup this morning. She took Sean and went shopping. Something about getting him out of harm's way."

"Did you all see the sandbags around the greenhouse?" Banks asked the room. "I asked Cameron about them, and he said it was manly business, then laughed as he walked off."

"I've been telling you for months that kid is dangerous," Hawk grumbled. "But no one wants to believe me. Should have patched his ass in months ago."

A knock at the door had everyone jumping to attention as Bailey stuck her head inside.

"Hey, King. Just letting you know I'm heading out for a bit. Granny took Rose and Charlie for the day."

Slowly getting to my feet, I frowned. "You're leaving too?"

"No way in hell am I getting mixed up with this shit. Good luck."

Her laughter rang out as she closed the door.

Looking around at my brothers, all of them stared at me in shock.

Placing my cup of coffee on my desk, I growled, "Where is Cameron?"

Before anyone could answer, a sinister laugh rang out through the clubhouse. Brothers gulped when I slowly got to my feet, heading for the main room. Looking around, there was no one there, only the little shit's maniacal laughter.

"Callum," Gunner whispered close. "I'm scared."

Frank turned and headed for the armory.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"I'm getting my guns!"

Scribe removed his trusty knife, palming it.

"Got love for my little buddy, but he isn't taking me down!"

"Jesus Christ! He's a FUCKING KID!" I shouted just as the front doors flew open and there, sitting on the front steps, was a folding table piled high with paintball guns and ammo.

Walking over to the table, I spotted a note written in crayon on top of the pile.

Picking it up, it read:

Standard Paintball rules apply.

You get hit. YOU ARE OUT!

May the best prez win.

My brothers didn't need to be told twice as they started grabbing guns and loading themselves down with as much ammo as they could carry.

"This is fucking crazy." I groaned, looking around the compound. "Doesn't he know we are all trained? He can't win."

I mean, half of us were trained Marines.

We did this shit in our sleep.

"Speak for yourself," Frank said, picking up extra ammo. "You want to stand around and test my little buddy? Go ahead. I know Cameron. He means business."

"Give me that gun." Hawk smiled evilly. "I've been wanting to take a whack at that brat all summer. Carnage is going down!"

"First one to hit him wins." Banks high-fived Hawk.

Those fuckers took off running as the horrific laughter stopped and ‘Bad to the Bone,' by George Thorogood blasted through the speakers.

"Fuck this shit!" Gunner snarked, as he and Pyro each grabbed guns and ammo, then quickly took off toward the back of the club.

Scribe smiled, slamming a cartridge of paintballs into his gun before slapping me on my back. "Knew this day was coming. Felt it in my bones. Got love for you, King, but I'm not letting Carnage take me down. Some advice… run!"

With that, Scribe and Frank took off running.

Looking at Enigma, the brother shrugged, grabbing more ammo. "What can I say? The kid scares the crap out of me."

Like the rest of the chickenshits, he, too, took off running.

Fucking pussies.

The whole lot of them!

"What about you?" I asked, looking at the last man standing.

Okay, so Priest wasn't exactly standing, but you got what I was saying.

Priest chuckled, rolling himself back into the safety of the clubhouse. "Good luck, brother. I think you are going to need it."

Shit!

"CAMERON!" I yelled. "I'm not playing this stupid game!"

In the very next instant, something whizzed by my head.

Slowly turning, I saw a hot pink splatter of paint on the wall of my clubhouse as Queen's, ‘Another One Bites the Dust', started playing.

Reaching for a gun, I muttered, "You want to fucking play, kid? Then let's play."

Enigma

Moving fast, I rounded the club garage, looking around the area. I didn't trust Carnage as far as I could throw him. The brat may have done me a solid with Shug, but this was war.

Carefully treading forward, every little noise had me stopping as I scanned the area when I saw something move to my left. Slowing my approach, I smiled and raised my gun.

From around the other side of the garage, Bagel the Beagle trotted out, wagging its little tail happily like it didn't have a damn care in the world.

I knew where that dog was, Cameron wasn't far behind.

The kid loved that dog.

Kneeling down, I whispered, "Come on, boy. Come here."

Only the dog sat its ass down and started barking.

I knew there was a reason I didn't like dogs.

They were a nuisance!

"Shush!" I whispered, frantically waving my hand. "Don't do me like that!"

"Hi, Dad!" Benny said, walking up behind Bagel.

Sighing, I lowered my gun. "Jesus, Ben, you damn near gave me a heart attack."

"Got a question for you?"

"Not now, Ben," I dismissed, looking around the area for Cameron. "Kind of busy here. It's life or death."

"Are you allergic to the ink in the paintballs?"

Slowly turning back toward my son, I gulped.

"No."

Ben smiled. "That's good."

And that's when my newly acquired son produced a paintball gun and pointed it at me.

Getting to my feet, I quickly raised my hands. "Now, Benjamin. Think about this. You can't shoot your dad. What would your mother say?"

"No. He can't," someone chuckled from behind me. "But I can."

Slowly turning, I came face-to-face with Jamison, Bailey's cousin, as he unloaded his paintball gun into me.

When Jamie was done, I lay on the ground, while Cameron's dog licked my face.

Jamie high-fived Ben as he happily said into a walkie-talkie, "I got Enigma."

I looked up at Ben, then groaned. "You're grounded."

Gunner

Chase and I split up the second we passed the first cabin. It was every man for themselves, and while I loved my brother, I was not taking a bullet for him.

No way. No sirree!

Heading for the furthest cabin, I planned on hiding out until the dust settled, and then I would make my move and emerge victorious as I preened and mocked the losers.

Fuckers deserved it too, for all the shit they'd given me over the years.

I hoped Cameron kicked all their asses.

Of course, like most things in my life, I didn't watch where I was going and slipped and fell into a mud pool.

"What the fuck!" I shouted as I laid there staring at the blue sky above me.

Where the hell did this shit come from?

Laying there, I tried to catch my breath, when I heard someone laughing.

Flopping around in the mud like a fish, the laughter only got louder.

By the time I freed myself from the muddy goo, I was pissed.

I was going to kill Cameron when I got my hands on him.

The laughter continued.

Looking toward the cabin, I couldn't find where the laughter was coming from.

"Up here, you idiot!" a very fucking familiar voice rang out.

I stilled as my eyes trailed up the cabin to the roof, where my father-in-law lay with a rifle in his hand.

"OH SHIT!" I shouted, diving for cover near the tree line as a paintball whizzed past my head.

"Now, Mike, let's talk about this!" I shouted, trying to get to my feet, but couldn't.

The fucker shot off a few more rounds when I crawled toward a tree.

Gasping, I leaned against a tree when I heard Mike yell, "You coward! Fight like a man!"

Yeah. That was a big HELL NO!

That son of a bitch had been dying to take a whack at me ever since I got my Babydoll preggers.

I knew he hated me, but this shit was nuts!

"Mike, come on, man. I'm your son-in-law. The father to your grandkids. We can talk about this. Man to man!"

"Gotta be a man first, asshole!" he shouted, shooting off a few more rounds.

"What will Sarah say?"

"My baby girl will say you should have ducked!"

Okay. He got me there.

Babydoll would say that.

"Now, hold real still, dumbass." Mike chuckled. "I've been wanting to do this since you defiled my baby girl."

Quickly dropping my gun, I grabbed my balls as Mike took his shot.

And I screamed like a damn girl.

Banks

"I knew that kid was up to something," Hawk whispered as we both moved slowly and stealthily. "When I get him in my sights, he's gonna wish he was never born."

Rolling my eyes, I groaned. "He's not some trained assassin, Hawk. Chill the fuck out."

"Are you telling me you won't shoot him?"

"Nope. I am not saying that."

Hawk stopped and stared at me. "Then what's your problem?"

Sighing, I looked around the area and said, "My problem is you are taking this way too seriously. It's paintball. A kid's game, and you're acting like it's live or die. What the hell is wrong with you? You've had a stick up your ass for over a week now."

Lowering his gun, Hawk took a deep breath and said, "Got a letter from back home."

"Yeah, and so?"

"So, it was from my uncle."

"Gonna need more than that, Hawk."

"He wants me back."

Now it was my turn to lower my gun. "What do you mean, he wants you back? To do what? Fight?"

Hawk nodded.

"You can't fight anymore. The last time almost killed you."

"I know, Banks, but fighting was my dream before I became a brother. It's all I ever wanted."

"So, what? You're gonna turn in your cut and go back into the ring?"

Groaning, Hawk started walking again. "I haven't decided yet."

Gaping at the motherfucker, I knew he just didn't say that shit.

Balling up my fist, I stormed after him.

"What do you mean you haven't decided? You are a damned brother in this club. You can't just pack up and fucking leave. What about Trip?"

"He's in a coma."

"And you will be right next to him if you step back into the ring!"

"You don't know that."

"The fuck I don't!"

Hawk turned on a dime and faced me. "You don't understand, Banks. Being the champion was all I ever wanted. My uncle trained me since I was a kid. It's all I knew. I didn't spend time with friends, messing around, getting into trouble and shit. If I wasn't in school, I was in the cage. That was my life until it wasn't. Now my uncle wants me back. Me!"

Shaking my head, I growled. "Don't do it, Hawk. I read the stories. So did the others. Your uncle abandoned you to the wolves after the accident. Blamed you for everything. He told you he never wanted to see you again. To never come back, and now, out of the blue, he's sorry. Bullshit! That fucker wants something and it's not what you think."

"Shut up, Banks," Hawk snarled, getting in my face. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

Stepping up to him, I yelled back, "Maybe not, but I know one thing."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"You ain't gonna get the chance to take a whack at Carnage!"

Before the fucker could think of what I meant, I lifted my paintball gun and fired.

"You son of a bitch!" Hawk roared, firing his gun at me.

When all was said and done, and the both of us were both covered in colorful paint, we both heard the bane of our existence chuckle. "Idiots."

Turning, Cameron walked past shaking his head in disgust as he lifted a walkie-talkie to his mouth.

"The knuckle draggers are out."

Scribe

Moving fast through the trees, I had no idea where any of my brothers were, and I didn't care. There was no fucking way I was going to let a seven-year-old get the best of me.

Leaning against a tree, I scanned the area, wondering where the little shit was hiding.

I could feel him. He was close. Watching, waiting for me to make my move.

Had to give it to him. This was pure genius on his part.

Knew that the kid was planning something big, and well, he succeeded big time.

Taking on the entire club was ballsy.

Too bad his balls hadn't descended yet because he was about to learn a valuable lesson.

Never take on the big boys.

I stiffened when I heard something move in the trees.

Raising my gun, I waited patiently for whoever it was to show their face when a twig snapped behind me. Spinning around, I saw Cameron duck around the greenhouse, laughing happily as Hawk and Banks angrily trudged back toward the clubhouse covered in paint.

Fuckers never stood a chance.

Narrowing my eyes, I grinned. "Gotcha, kid."

Running fast to catch up with him, I ducked around the back of the greenhouse, carefully making my way around the structure before slipping inside.

Sighing, I leaned my head against the door, when I heard the one thing on the fucking planet that would make anyone stop dead in their tracks.

There was no mistaking that sound.

I was born and raised in Texas.

I would know.

It was the sound that would make any grown man piss his pants.

And when the distinct sound of a western Diamondback rattlesnake rattled around the small, enclosed room, I closed my eyes and gave up being an atheist as I prayed to God for the first time in my life.

"Hello, Pussylips."

Hanging my head, I groaned. "I should have known."

"Yes, you should have."

Turning, I found my bestie, my ride or die, the one person I would do anything for, sitting on one of the tables I used for my special project, swinging her legs while, with one hand, she aimed a paintball gun directly at me, her cell in the other.

"Freyja told me you didn't like rattlesnakes."

Resting against the door, I sighed. "She also tell you that she's now dead to me?"

Bailey chuckled as she raised her phone to snap a picture of me before placing it on the table next to her.

"If you could see your face."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"So, you're team Cameron now?"

Bailey shook her head. "Nope. Kid refused to give me what I wanted."

"What's it gonna take to get me out of here alive, Bails?"

My bestie thumbed her finger at the door behind her. "Tell me what you're doing in there?"

Gulping, I slowly shook my head. "Can't tell you that."

Bailey sighed, shaking her head. "Kid said you would say that."

"Come on, Bails. You're my ride or die. We're best buds. You know I'd do anything for you. Anything but that."

Nodding, she jumped down from the table. "Yep. I do know that. Too bad for you, I made a deal with the kid."

Holding up my hand, I quickly sputtered, "What about King? He said no more pranks."

"Not afraid of him."

She was right. Stubborn woman wasn't afraid of shit.

"You know I'll retaliate, right?" I took a tiny step back, knowing what was about to happen. "I'll ramp up our prank war until we blow the roof off the clubhouse."

Bailey took aim and smiled. "Sounds fun. Looking forward to it."

Frank

My brothers were falling like dominos.

My little buddy wasn't playing around.

He was in this to win it.

I smirked at that. I sure loved that kid's tenacity.

Making my way toward the back of the clubhouse, I entered the back door, heading for the main room to find Priest shaking his head in disgust as he looked at four of our brothers.

"And you morons call yourself men. You should be ashamed of yourselves."

"You think you can do better, then you go find the little shit and take him out!" Hawk snarled.

"Hey, Priest," I said, looking at Enigma, Banks, Hawk, and Gunner.

Priest smiled up at me. "What are you doing in here? The fight is outside."

"What happened to them?" I asked, looking at my brothers.

Priest snickered. "Well, Enigma got taken out by Jamie. Those two idiots shot each other, and Gunner will never have kids again. Mike made sure of that."

Looking at Gunner, who was lying on the couch groaning with a full bag of ice between his legs, I cringed. "Mike's here?"

"Apparently." Priest chuckled. "And he's on team Cameron."

"Where is King?"

"He's still out there hunting," Priest informed me just as the back door slammed.

Turning, we all watched as Scribe stormed into the main room, he too was covered in paint, cursing up a storm about paybacks, witches and devil demons.

I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Well, that only leaves you, King, and Pyro." Priest chuckled, shaking his head. "Gotta give the kid props. He prepared for every eventuality. All I know is if we lose this war, King is gonna be pissed. You all better pray someone takes out that kid fast, because if Cameron wins, King's gonna have all our asses running the obstacle course until we bleed."

Hearing a car approach, I headed for the front door, as my brother Georgie pulled into the compound. Knowing he was just getting off work from working a double shift at the hospital, I needed to warn him he was walking into a war zone.

So, the second he stepped out of his car, I rushed over to him.

Grabbing his arm, I ushered him around the side of the clubhouse.

"Fucking tired, Frankie. What the hell do you want?"

"Go to Granny's. The club is at war."

"What?" my brother groaned right before he yawned.

"Cameron declared war."

Georgie rubbed his temples and moaned, "Frank, I've worked forty-eight hours straight. I'm fucking tired and need a shower. I don't have time for childish games."

"I'm serious, Georgie. Cameron isn't playing around. It's every man for himself. He's already taken out half the club. He's got Benny and Jamie helping him."

"You were a fucking Marine, Frank. Are you telling me a seven-year-old kid is kicking your ass?"

I nodded, scanning the area. "He's already taken out five of us."

"Six."

"What?" My head whipped to my brother.

That's when I spotted the paintball gun in Georgie's hand.

Sneering, my big brother stalked me, growling, "Carebear?"

Gulping, I shook my head. "That wasn't my idea. Cameron came up with that all on his own."

"You laughed."

I quickly sputtered, "You can't shoot me. I'm your brother!"

"Carebear," Georgie snarled, taking aim.

"You shoot me, I'll tell Granny!"

"Carebear!" Georgie yelled while he fired his gun at me just as King stepped out of the tree line, shooting Georgie in the forehead.

King stood over George, who was laying on the ground, and shook his head. "How many are left?"

"Can't tell you that, King. We're both dead. Dead men don't speak."

King turned toward me and growled.

With Georgie by my side, we both walked into the clubhouse only to hear Priest laugh.

"What the hell happened to you two?"

Sighing, I grumbled. "Georgie shot me, King shot Georgie in the head, then shot me in the head because, apparently, ‘dead men can't speak.'"

Pyro

This was a massacre.

Everyone was dropping like flies.

The kid bested us. I knew it; they knew it, and the whole fucking town would know it by nightfall. Didn't take a fucking genius to figure that out. By morning, the Sons of Hell Motorcycle Club would be the laughingstock of Rosewood.

All thanks to my seven-year-old brother-in-law.

Hanging my head, I was so over this crap.

I was now on team Banks. Patch the brat in and be done with it.

Walking around the compound, I didn't even bother hiding.

What was the use? The kid clearly had a plan, and it was working.

To hell with this. I was done.

Heading inside the clubhouse, I found all my brothers covered in paint, in varying degrees of pissed off.

It was a bloodbath, by the looks of them.

Shaking my head, I took a seat at the bar.

"Give me a beer?"

"Why aren't you outside?" Enigma asked, sliding a cold one over to me.

"Because I'm the only one left."

"King is still out there."

"And good luck to him." I saluted before taking a swig of my beer.

"Did any of you spot the kid?" Priest questioned from the table he was sitting at.

"Saw him by the greenhouse, before I got taken out," Scribe muttered.

"Heard the fucker laugh at me before Mike shot me in the dick," Gunner whined, shifting the bag of ice between his legs.

"And the rest of you?" Priest asked as the rest of the brothers all shook their heads. "You mean to tell me that only Scribe physically saw him?"

"He was hard to find," Banks muttered.

"Oh, for crying out loud. He isn't Waldo! He's a seven-year-old kid with blond hair and a snarky attitude."

"Then you roll your happy ass outside and go look for him, Priest," Banks snarked as Benny and Jamie trudged through the front door looking dejected as they both rubbed their asses.

"What the hell happened to you two?" I asked, smirking.

Benny laid his paintball gun on the table Priest was sitting at and groaned. "King shot us in the ass."

Enigma laughed. "Serves you right."

"My butt hurts." Jamie winced as we all chuckled.

Priest picked up Benny's gun and whistled. "Damn. Now, this is a paintball gun. Semi-auto, with an automatic switch. This thing holds a two-mag clip and over two hundred rounds. I want one of these."

"And it has a scope," Benny muttered, reaching into his back pocket, then slid the scope toward Priest.

"Sweet!"

"This shit blows," Hawk moaned. "How much longer do we have to stay here?"

"Until there is one man standing," Priest said, slamming a new magazine into the paint gun.

"I would stay here," Benny warned. "Cameron's got the whole place booby-trapped."

"What?" several of the brothers asked at once.

"What do you mean, Ben?" I asked, looking around the room.

"Well, ask Gunner. He fell into one of them."

We all looked at Gunner, who sighed. "I fucking knew that mud pit wasn't there the other day."

"Then there is the greenhouse." Jamie grinned, looking at Scribe.

The loveable hippie brother groaned, huffing. "Not talking about that one."

"There's the bucket full of worms, the hole full of chocolate syrup marshmallows, and the plastic wrap with cooking spray that will dump a bucket filled with Scribe's Dead Sea mud."

"Oh, and don't forget about the manure," Jamie quickly added.

Benny nodded. "That's right. There is a trip wire behind one of the back cabins that will cause someone to fall forward into a mixture of manure, honey, and hay."

Slowly getting to my feet, I groaned. "And only two of us found the traps?"

Benny nodded. "Yep."

Gunner sat up. "But King's still out there."

"Oh shit." Scribe sighed, hanging his head.

"This is not good," Frank informed.

"We have to warn him," Banks said as a dark shadow fell over the room.

There, standing at the entrance of the clubhouse covered in mud, worms, marshmallows, manure, hay, and wreaking of the Dead Sea mud, stood King, glaring at all of us.

"Where the fuck is Cameron?"

Nobody dared move.

King was beyond pissed.

Incensed… most definitely.

Ready to kill… absolutely!

Maybe even kill us… quite possibly.

Yet, that didn't stop Benny from slowly getting to his feet and walking over to the fuming powder keg.

We all watched with bated breath as Benny reached into his back pocket and removed a piece of paper, holding it out to King as his voice trembled and his hand shook.

"Cameron wanted me to give this to you if you were the last man standing."

Taking it, King said nothing as he stared at the scared boy.

"He also wanted me to tell you goodbye."

Frowning, I slid from my stool. "What does that mean, Benjamin?"

The brothers all slowly got to their feet.

Enigma rounded the bar, walking over to his son. Reaching for him, he kneeled in front of his son and asked, "Ben. What is going on? Where is Cameron?"

Benny sniffed. "I tried to talk him out of it, Dad, but he wouldn't listen. He made up his mind. Ain't no one can change that when he's determined."

Looking at King, who stood motionless, his eyes glued to the letter in his hands, I was about to ask what it said when King dropped the letter, bolting from the clubhouse as if his ass were on fire.

Picking it up, I read the letter aloud:

Hey, King,

Sorry I wasn't there to see you win the game.

I did good, huh? Never saw it coming. You really need to work on the brothers, though. They were too easy to pick off, but I know it's nothing you can't handle. You will have them shipshape in no time. I know it.

Anyway, I have decided to go back home. Think it will be easier for everyone that way. That way, you won't have to worry about me making trouble anymore.

I want you to know that I meant no harm. Everything I did was to show you I belonged. That I could handle whatever came my way. Mainly, I wanted to show you I was someone worth keeping around.

Good luck, King. I'm going to miss you.

Your Son,

Cameron.

"Oh shit." I sighed.

"Son? Did you know about this, Pyro?" Gunner asked.

Shaking my head, I cleared the lump in my throat. "Yeah. Skylar mentioned it the other day. We thought it would blow over. That he was just upset about the knuckle draggers."

"I thought he was happy," Scribe said to no one in particular.

"Me too," Frank added.

"Told you." Priest shook his head. "He's still a little boy, and what do little boys want the most?"

"A dad," I whispered.

King

"You bring my brother back, Callum Montclair, or I swear to fucking God, I will never forgive you!" Skylar Rose shouted at me from the front steps of the clubhouse as she bounced Milo on her hip.

After reading Cameron's letter, I headed straight for Skylar's house, thinking he'd just run home.

But I was wrong.

So very fucking wrong.

I'd been wrong about many things in my life, but this one beat them all.

How did I miss it? How was I so fucking blind? Now I saw everything clearly. Why he did everything he did, everything he said… he was trying to be just like me.

He wanted to make me proud.

Fuck!

I was a goddammed idiot.

Saying nothing, I watched as my wife walked over to me with our daughter in her arms. She leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Don't you worry about anything. I'll hold down the fort. You just bring your son home."

I nodded, placing my helmet on my head.

"Love you, Cupcake."

"Yeah, yeah… you can show me how much when you come home."

I smirked, starting my bike.

"You okay with this?"

Bailey shrugged. "Kid's got balls. He's gonna make a great president of the club someday."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was why I loved my wife.

Cameron

The moon was high over the mountains as I walked toward their headstones. I wasn't scared one bit. I grew up in these mountains. Knew every tree, nook and cranny, every fun place to hide. This was my home. The place my mom and dad wanted me to grow up.

Too bad it hadn't worked out that way.

"I tried, Dad. Gave it my all," I said as I looked at my dad's name. "I miss you so much. I wish you were here. You would know what to do."

Taking a seat on the wet grass, I picked a weed and threw it to the side. Resting my head in my hand, I wondered what the brothers were doing.

Did they know I was gone yet?

Did they even care?

I bet they were all laughing, drinking, and having a good time.

They deserved it, I guess.

All of them were good guys, even Hawk, when he didn't have that stick up his ass. I was gonna miss my other friends, like Mrs. Cohen, Mr. Howard and Mrs. Beth. I was really going to miss her chocolate chip muffins.

Sighing, I tried not to think about Benny.

I was going to miss him the most, but I'd trained him well. I knew he'd take over the Manly Club and everything would be just fine.

"Whatcha doin' here, Cameron? Thought you moved to that big, fancy tourist town."

Looking up, I spotted Clive.

"Came to see my dad."

Clive looked around before asking, "Yer sister here with ya?"

"She didn't come with me."

"Ya came alone?"

"I can take care of myself."

"Not saying ya can't. You know these mountains better than anyone. But I gotta say, I never thought to see ya around these parts again. Generally, when people leave, they don't come back."

"I like to buck the norm."

"So, what really brought ya back here?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Matters to me," the big oaf said, sitting next to me. "I know we ain't hardly got along, but that don't mean I can't care."

Ripping a blade of grass from the ground, I whispered, "No one wanted me."

"Well, that don't seem right," Clive scoffed. "I knows loads of people who liked ya. Me too."

Turning toward the big guy, I frowned. "You yelled and chased me all over this mountain, Clive. You even ripped my shirt once."

"It was all for fun." Clive smiled, showing me his missing teeth. "Was just trying to make ya smarter. Can't go through life thinking it's all fun and games. Had to man ya up for the real world."

"Man me up?"

"Why of course. Yer daddy had it right. Why'd ya think he was always on ya about doing shit? It's what we men do. Who else is gonna take care of the womenfolk?"

"It doesn't matter anymore. Guess I'll have to learn everything myself."

"Ain't no one in that fancy town teach you anything?"

I shrugged. "There was one guy. He was cool. Thought he wanted the job permanently, ya know, but guess he changed his mind."

"No, I didn't."

Spinning around, my eyes widened as King and the rest of the club brothers all stood a few feet from me.

Clive got to his feet, walked over, and shook King's hand. "Kept an eye on him just like ya asked."

"Thank you," King muttered, never taking his eyes off me.

Looking back at me, Clive smiled. "Kid's a handful, but he ain't nuttin' you can't handle."

With that, Clive walked away, leaving me alone with the Sons of Hell Motorcycle Club. When no one moved or said a word, I turned back around and huffed.

I didn't want them to see my tears. Bad enough they were here. They didn't need to see me look like a sissy baby, too.

Sniffing, I muttered, "You shouldn't have come."

"Cameron, look at me."

"Can't do that, King."

"Why not?"

I shrugged, wrapping my arms around my legs as I wiped my nose on my sleeve. "Just can't."

Hearing him walk closer, I said nothing as he took a seat next to me.

Scrunching up my nose, I muttered, "You stink."

"It's your fault."

I bristled, waiting for the sharp sting of his ire, when he surprised me by saying, "Your sister is worried."

"I know, but I needed to see my dad."

King sighed, shaking his head. "I miss your dad, too. He was a good man. A good brother. There wasn't anything I wouldn't have done for him or your mother. She made the best fried chicken."

"Yeah, she did."

"Did you know I was there the night you were born? You were just a little bitty thing. I never saw anything so small in my entire life. Your dad was so nervous. I thought for sure he was going to faint. But when I handed you to him, the smile he had on his face was blinding. Never saw the man happier and more scared than he was at that moment."

"I thought I was born here in Juniper Hollow?"

"Nope." King shook his head. "You were born at the Sons of Hell clubhouse, in my bedroom. Your mom and dad were visiting before his next deployment. Sky was on some field trip for school, and your parents dropped by to ask me and Scribe if we would be your godfathers. Of course, we accepted, then your mom went into labor. I delivered you, Cameron. I was the first person to hold you."

"No one told me."

"Why would they? You were just a little boy."

"Still, it would have been nice to know."

King smirked. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Other than me, Cord or Chase, you are the only person to have been born in the clubhouse. Do you know what that means?"

"No."

"It means no matter what happens, where you go, or what you do in this life, you belong to us. You belong to me."

Looking at King, I needed him to explain that.

"I'm not an easy man, Cameron. I'm set in my ways. I like things my way. I'm stubborn, opinionated, and I've got a nasty temper. When you moved to Rosewood, I didn't know what I was going to do with a six-year-old boy. I was so out of my depth; I spent many nights wondering what your father would do. Then it hit me. Your dad would just let you be you. He wouldn't want to change anything about you. He would embrace whatever cockamamie scheme you came up with and just roll with the punches. Over time, you acclimated to the club and your new surroundings, embracing everything and everyone. I thought you were happy. Content. I was wrong. I should have known better. I should have known that without a father's guidance, you would run roughshod, and you did. This summer, you tested all the patience I had and then some. You gave poor Banks and Hawk a run for their money. But what you pulled earlier today, well, that was an eye-opener. I learned I couldn't stand by anymore and do nothing. That if I didn't step up, you were going to be so out of control that no one would be able to stop you. So, I've made a decision."

"What's that?"

King looked directly at me and smirked. "You're stuck with me, kid. Love me or hate me, I don't care, but you're mine. Now and forever."

Blinking, I gasped.

"You mean it!" I squealed loudly.

"God help me." The man rolled his eyes as I grinned. "I'm the only one in that clubhouse who has big enough balls to contain you. So, you're stuck with me… Son."

Before he could say another word, I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tight, and when he hugged me back, I knew I'd done the right thing.

"Now, what do you say we get the hell out of this place and go home?"

"Thought you'd never ask."